Nothing now
by Schermionie
Summary: George has married Katie, and Fred's with Angelina. But is Fred's heart really in his relationship? One sided Twincest, slash. Oneshot. Don't like, don't read.


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or any characters, places ect that this includes. J.K. Rowling does.

A/N: Pleeeeeeeeeeassse review! My secondgo at Twincest, so don't shoot me. Anything you want to say, you can say it to me. Even flame me for how I'm going to hell! Just tell me why I'll be roasting marshmellows underground and then, if that's because this is twincest, look at the summary. DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ. Otherwise, all flames, con crit, praise (yeah right) and other random stuff you have to say is all welcome! So please review!

I watch you and her, together, at your wedding reception. You and Katie. You're dancing. Closely. You're looking into each other's eyes like there's no one else there, no one else watching, no one else caring.

And there isn't. To you now I'm nothing.

You continue dancing, but now you're hardly moving at all. Just holding each other, tightly. No one can separate you, not even your twin, your brother, the one who knows you better and loves you more than anyone else ever could.

Still I'm nothing.

Smiling now, you're talking and laughing with her, a secret smile sent her way, she sends one to you. I can't hear what you're saying; the music drowns you out. Drowns you out, away from me.

And I know for sure I'm nothing because when the song ends you don't even glance my way. Don't grin and wink at me like you used to do when we were younger and closer. Now you're older and closer to her and I'm drowned out, faded out of the picture. Out of your life.

Nothing interesting about me. You know me and you've moved on. Nothing is nothing to you.

Faster and faster, you twirl her around. Spinning, spinning, I gaze at you and her so long you blur in my mind and all I see is your nervous eleven year old face on the first day of school. All I see are memories. I'm locked in the past and only you can get me out of my prison but you won't. And I know why.

I'm nothing to you now.

You looked to me for reassurance. Turning your blue eyes to me you said more in that one look than you could with words. Trust. Trust is what I saw in your eyes. It's still there but now it's directed at someone else. If you gazed at me like that you'd be trusting thin air.

I hear my name called, but the voice is distant and blurred. I can't tear my eyes away from you. You and her. I never thought you'd do it. You always said you wouldn't leave me, get married, move away from me; making it sound as if you were joking and being serious I could never tell if you meant it and now I know you didn't. Now I know the belief I desperately clung onto was a load of shit.

Thanks for letting me know I'm nothing.

Angelina comes to me, grinning and chatting casually away, clinging onto my arm. Angelina, oh Angelina, can't you tell I'm not meant for you? Can't you tell my heart rests somewhere else? I shrug her off, not even glancing her way and she storms off after asking me why I've been so cold lately and receiving no reply. When she finds me cold-- truly cold—not even you, George, my beloved twin, will be able to reach me.

A new song, a slower song. You move as one again, not that you've been apart at all tonight. We used to be like that, do you remember? No, of course you don't. How could you remember someone that doesn't exist? How can you recall something that, in your mind, never really happened?

But I do. I remember how we were before her. Close as close, trouble making twins, in it together, through thick and thin, our problems never solved separately, but jointly.

Perhaps I made all this up. Perhaps we were never like that; perhaps I'm just holding this one clear thought in my mind close to me, never able to acknowledge it's all a lie. Perhaps I'm just a fool for even being here.

But you invited me so you must know I exist. I'm your best man, surely that means something?

I'm almost convinced when you pass me, hand in hand with her.

Her white dress billows slowly out behind her, so close I could catch it and run my hands over the soft material. But already the dress is out of my reach and you have moved on.

You pass me by without saying a word, though even through my distorted senses I hear you greeting other guests who come across your path. You ignore me the way you would ignore a blank spot on a wall.

I feel the tears welling up but they do not break. I am too empty inside. I'm standing here hollow.

Nothing can fill me. Nothing can fill nothing.

Love's like that; if the one you love doesn't feel the same then there's nothing.

Is it so much just to cast me a quick, fleeting look? One look and I'll know. One look and I'll know I exist and am not an unfortunate product of a deranged and sadistic imagination.

Love's like that. Deranged and sadistic.

Unfortunate is the way you'll describe how unhappy I feel right now, how the depression overcomes me whenever I see you smile at her. Unfortunate is the way you'd describe how we've drifted apart, how since you've been with her I've become increasingly detached from you. Unfortunate is how you'll describe my death.

Love's like that. I'm so desperate, George, and I can't stand it. I'm sure you'd understand if you knew, after all you are my twin. You don't know, though, because I'm nothing.

I stay long enough to see you out of the Burrow where your wedding took place. Everyone is happy, there's excitement in the air. Mum's crying, proud of you. Confetti falls silently down around you, the perfect couple, obscuring you from my vision.

Then I leave forever, slipping out as a shadow against the wall of our childhood home.

With her, nothing will not be something you'll need.


End file.
